


Shattered Secrets

by Miss_Mil



Series: Shattered Series [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: s07e11 Shattered, F/M, Gen, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mil/pseuds/Miss_Mil
Summary: The past. The present. The future. Chakotay experiences them all the day 'Voyager' is fractured. With a version of Kathryn Janeway from seven years in the past, they run into someone they probably shouldn't.A s07e11 'Shattered' episode addition. AU.





	Shattered Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Helen8462](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/gifts).



> A birthday fic for the ever-talented Helen8462. Because, she loves this episode, I pestered her endlessly with snippets and she's awesome. If you haven't already, check out her stuff. 
> 
> Happy Birthday lovely lady, and thank you for the beta!

* * *

Shattered time frames.

Serums.

Kazon.

Seska.

Kathryn Janeway pre-Delta Quadrant.

After the day he’d had, it really wasn't any surprise that Chakotay happened to run into Naomi and Icheb in the Astrometrics lab. He had entered the only time frame so far that moved them into the future, and one glance at the grown-up faces before him told Chakotay that the jump had been a much larger one than his other experiences today.

Naomi, he had recognised immediately. Icheb took only a moment longer. This time frame was far beyond his seven years on _Voyager._

The momentary look of shock on both their youthful faces wasn't something he was likely to forget in a hurry. He spared few thoughts for what had caused their sudden reaction, unwillingly or unable – he didn’t know which – to speculate on the life they had both lived, before another emotion took over entirely.

Pride thudded loudly in his chest, securing itself in his bones with the knowledge that whatever happened here, now, or in the future, Naomi and Icheb _would_ grow up. Voyager _would_ persist through the Delta Quadrant, and somehow, some way, whatever had caused the shattering of time frames would not destroy them entirely.

His own, and the seven-years-younger Janeway’s actions were going to save _Voyager_. Again.

But it was the third, unknown figure in the room that drew his attention, and held it. She stood ramrod straight, her back to them all, paying little attention to the two figures who had just entered the room. Lithe fingers danced easily over the console in a way that was oddly familiar. He remained transfixed, eyes darting with precision that followed her every move.

The vacant shirt collar told him she was most likely a very green Cadet.

“Who are you?” He asked eventually, when the young woman failed to turn around. The words weren't hostile, but something in his tone drew a cautious glance and a stern, whispered “ _Commander?”_ from Janeway as she remained by the door. His eyes flickered toward her, intent on giving her a rather haughty retort when he startled, and looked back rapidly at Janeway’s face second time.

Her attention had long since left him. Instead, it was intently focused on the three figures that stood in the room with them. Her eyes darted between the two that stood facing them, and rested a little longer than necessary on the slightly taller Cadet who continued to face away. The Captain was surveying the officers in the room with an expression that made Chakotay realise it had been many years since she’d looked at him – or anyone - with such open adoration and pride.

It was almost like the Kathryn Janeway from his own time had forgotten what it was like to smile. To laugh. To be anything but the Captain. But, this Janeway, the one smiling with fondness toward three people she had yet to meet, the Janeway who took even less time than his own Kathryn to trust him, had yet to experience seven years away from home.

She had yet to retreat so far into herself that she didn’t know how to come out anymore.

And, the way she gazed at Naomi… it made him instantly wish for any other outcome but what the universe planned for them all. But, knowing that outcome only brought a different kind of pain. A pain that reminded him that Naomi and Icheb and many others would fail to exist in their lives should the timeline become irrevocably altered.

The figure still stood facing away from him, with her elegant grace and enchanting posture. He realised… that she too could cease to exist. Something deep inside him clenched painfully at the very thought, and he swore in that moment to maintain the timeline as much as he could.

To maximise damage control, and fix this damn thing immediately.

“Who are you?” he asked again. Gentler this time. More imploring.

The young woman turned slowly, smiling knowingly. Her raven hair was pulled back into a low bun; the strong lines of her jaw standing out as light from the Astrometrics screen reflected the angular planes of her face with the utmost beauty.

Bright, intelligent eyes locked onto his.

“Someone you haven't met yet.”

Chakotay creased his brow. He cleared his throat, suddenly acutely aware of all eyes on him. The Captain moved slightly closer, getting bolder, her shoulder now almost touching his as she regarded the unknown cadet with curious eyes.

She was much younger than the others.

The voice of the woman drifted effortlessly across the room, the slightly husky tones soothing to his ears. “But you will know me one day.”

Before he could open his mouth, Janeway cut in, addressing the cadet with easy commands. “Would you mind telling us what is going on?”

“ _Voyager_ has been fractured into thirty-seven different time frames,” came the crisp reply. Chakotay realised he didn’t even know the cadet’s name. Maybe he shouldn’t.

“Now, how did you figure that out?” Janeway asked, disbelievingly.

“We’ve had seventeen years to upgrade the sensors,” Naomi offered, like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. Chakotay could almost hear the twinge of sadness lining her words.

His heart ached.

There was a moment’s pause.

“You all look like you’ve seen two ghosts today,” Janeway stated cautiously. Her eyes flicked daringly over to Chakotay, trying to glimpse his expression from under gentle lashes.

Icheb cleared his throat. “Yes, Captain. You both died.”

Instantly, Chakotay feared Icheb said too much. Because if Janeway knew the outcome of their mission, she would do absolutely everything in her power to stop it. To prevent it. And Chakotay knew deep in his bones that this would be something very, very bad.

He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how thankful he was that Icheb doesn’t mention the stardate or circumstances of their death.

“Would you please explain the problem to us, Lieutenant Wildman?” Janeway asked, changing the atmosphere in the room suddenly. Naomi jumped slightly, nodding.

“A chrono-kinetic surge interacted with the warp core,” she said with an efficiency Seven would be proud of. “I can show you in more detail if you like, Captain.” Her arm waved in the general direction of another console. Hazel eyes glanced back to Chakotay, and then rested on the cadet before she turned away once again.

Nodding briskly, Janeway moved off, guided gently by Naomi and Icheb who dazzled the Captain with bright lights and glimpses into a future filled with technology and ways to fight the Borg and temporal incursions.

Chakotay was immensely grateful for the momentary distraction.

The cadet in front of him didn’t move to follow, and glances back at him expectantly with clear eyes. She is waiting for him to say something profound, or meaningful. He recognised the expression as one he wore once himself when he waited for his own father to impart wisdom. And, he took in every word, hoping one day he would have the opportunity to return the favour to his own son, or treasured nephew. But, that was before the wars and the Delta Quadrant, and that dream had long since buried itself within the grave of his own father.

Only now is he faced with a version of himself he had never, ever prepared himself for. When he looked at her again, really looked at her, he feels something far too familiar. Not once in seven years of fucked up disasters, temporal adventures and time-travelling species hell bent on domination did he ever consider that somewhere out there a child of his own might exist.

He spared another quick glance toward the other occupants of the room, huddled over a flashing console discussing Seven of Nine, and what needed to be done. As he did so, he caught Naomi glancing over her shoulder and briefly flashing him a knowing smile.

There was no doubt that this cadet was his own flesh and blood, born from a future that had yet to come.  In the end, it wasn’t the raven hair. It wasn’t even the slightly tanned skin with a smattering of freckles (if he really looked close) that got him.

It was her damned eyes. Piercing, intelligent blue.

And they watched him with a burning intensity, curiosity.

“I know those eyes,” Chakotay said eventually, fidgeting with his ear. His words were soft, like he wasn’t sure if he should be speaking his thoughts or not. “They're Kathryn’s.”

The young woman in front of him blushed slightly, and levelled her gaze with his own. Eyes blinked slowly closed, and open again hypnotically. “You always told me I had her eyes.”

He looked at her for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. “You say that like it's in the past.”

“For me, it is,” she said simply.

He blinked, unsure of what to say to her in those precious seconds. Her crystal blue eyes bore into his own brown ones with frightening force as she waited, with slight impatience, for him to reach his own conclusion.

Because, god only knows if the woman is anything like her mother, she’d never give anything away when it came to temporal mechanics, and preserving the past.

“I die.”

A glimpse of sadness crossed the woman's face, and her beautiful eyes flick downward, tracing patterns on the floor with rapid movement. “Yes, you do.”

Three simple words that shatter his perfect illusion of a future yet to come. His child _will_ grow up without parents, and it killed him a little bit inside. It’s not a fate he’d chose for any of them, and he realised in that very moment that maybe he was never meant to have his happy ending.

Suddenly, he has to _know_. A hundred questions welled up inside him. He spared a few thoughts for the ship, and her crew. Even fewer thoughts go toward himself. Most are centred on the woman standing to his left, distracted by two officers, completely oblivious to the sudden torment Chakotay is going through.

This Janeway doesn’t share the same past with him. Not yet. Their paths have yet to intertwine.

For her, stuck somewhere seven years into his past, the future now looks worrisome for entirely different reasons. Captain Janeway knows nothing of him, nothing of their journey. She’s only seen glimpses of their life, and this Janeway can never understand what they mean to each other.

The horror of her affirmation was plainly written on his face. He sees it mirrored back in the deep blue eyes now watching him again, eerily so, as they hide under the same thick, dark lashes he is used to seeing in his own reflection.

“I can't tell you how.”

She pre-empted his most pressing question, intended to end his torment but instead only intensified it.

“Can’t?” he asked. “Or, won't?”

The distinction is fundamental to him, though he could not really explain why. The cadet watched him thoughtfully, chewing the inside of her lip with tension. Lines creased on her face as she fought with herself.

“I die trying to save her,” he guessed, quietly. Darkness is reaching him again. “Your mother.”

A moment passed, and the cadet refuses to answer.

“Please,” he said, earnestly. Because now he _has_ to know. “How?”

She shook her head slightly, tendrils of dark hair falling freely about her beautiful face. “My mother was always-” Her words cut short, and she checked herself. “The _Captain_ was always very clear to me about the implications of breaking the Temporal Prime directive.”

Eyes flicked briefly toward the Captain standing a few feet away. Chakotay could sense that his time with this cadet was about to come to an end.

“She knows about this?” he demanded. “Or will know about this?” he added, as an after-thought.

An eyebrow arched delicately. There is no doubt that this is Kathryn Janeway’s daughter. It radiated from her in every move. “Against your own better judgment,” she started out, if a little sarcastically. All that seemed to be missing was the signature eye-roll. “You will tell her about this timeline.”

“When?” Chakotay implored, with an urgency that he couldn’t explain. He hoped like hell that he isn’t going to tell this to the Kathryn on the day he died.

The three figures at the other console are about to move back toward him.

A ghost of a smile hovered at the corner of a perfect mouth. “The day I'm born.”

His mouth opened. And closed.

“I won't tell you when that is,” she said dryly. With a crooked smile. And, it is so completely Kathryn that it hurt just that little bit more inside when the young woman offered another vital sentence. “I’ll only tell you that it’s about nine months after you polish off your last bottle of cider.”

It’s then that he really smiled. The tension eased in his chest, if only slightly.

“Something amusing?” the Captain interjected, joining the two of them with Naomi and Icheb hovering close behind.  

“No,” the woman answered quickly, with a slight smile.

Captain Janeway straightened her shoulders, eyeing the young Ensign carefully. Warning bells began to go off in Chakotay’s brain.

“I didn’t catch your name, cadet,” Janeway said, slowly. Dangerously. It’s the same tone Chakotay recognised from seven years of standing beside her, and it’s the tone she uses when she feels like she is being deceived, or left in the dark.  

The cadet covered herself quickly, licking her lips and watching the Captain with great, fleeting joy as she uttered her next words. “I can’t tell you, Ma’am.”

Janeway looked surprised, if only for a moment. Chakotay supressed a small smirk, unable to decide if Janeway’s surprise is due to the evasive answer, or the deliberate use of _Ma’am_.

“Why not?”

Blue eyes flash with triumph and the cadet answers with a little bit too much cheek. “Temporal Prime Directive.”

Janeway stared for a fraction of a second, the scenario running through her mind, as she surveyed all the possible reasons for the answer given. Finally, she seemed to come to the conclusion that it’s probably better if she knows as little as possible about the future she is supposed to be throwing herself into. 

“Very well.” With a quick, dismissive nod, Janeway was out of the door and probably halfway up the corridor on a mission to find Seven of Nine.

The three officers stared for a moment at the doors as they swished closed. The cadet looked once again at Chakotay, before speaking with a smile. “You’d better go after her, Commander.”

He felt himself smile back, and he twisted his hands painfully together. His eyes searched her beautiful, youthful face one last time before he forced himself to step back, and head toward the door.

“Take care of yourself,” he said softly. A little forcefully, with good humour, meaning every word because he knew he will never get the chance to take care of her himself. “Cadet _Janeway.”_

Committing the bright smile to memory, Chakotay nodded goodbye to the cadet. He spared a fleeting glance to Naomi and Icheb before striding out into the corridor, running into a waiting Kathryn Janeway.

Her slightly raised eyebrow and impatient stance told him that it was entirely possible she _might_ have just heard his parting sentence to the young cadet. He stopped in his tracks, the doors to Astrometrics swishing closed behind him.

Her hands rested on his hips, the jut of her chin defiantly pointed up at him and he can see with frightening clarity where their daughter is going to get it from. “Well?” she prompts, impatiently. “Are you going to explain that to me?”

“No,” he said cautiously. Her eyes narrowed expectantly, and he utters the next word with great delight before she can even question him further. “Temporal Prime Directive.”

“I’m beginning to really hate that answer,” she muttered, stalking off down the corridor.

He sighed, bracing himself and marching off after her. He promised himself right then, watching her petite form make headway down a corridor without fear in a time frame she knows nothing about, that as soon as this crisis was over, he was going to finish that bottle of Antarian cider. The very same one that he’d opened as she sat on the floor, pulling her replicator to bits.

Because he still had a few left, stored in the Cargo Bay, now hidden – thanks to Icheb – in a crate full of spare Borg components.  

The last one bottle, however, he was going to save. He was going to save it for the night they make it home.

* * *

 


End file.
